


Chasing Ghosts

by cassie_star_12 (corvus_ace)



Series: ShuAke Week 2020 [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Day 1, F/F, M/M, Post-P5R, Shuake Week 2020, akira is sad and lonely, also akira has so many memories of goro, and by background I mean there's one singular mention of it, and he misses his boyfriend/teammate/rival, background futaba/sumire, but apparently isn't, futaba is still everyone's favorite pseudo-sibling, it made me sad to write them, maybe texting a dead man isn't the best way to cope with his death?, morgana's there but not very much, no beta we die like okumura, rated teen and up for swearing, royal trio for the win, sumire is a wonderful emotional support human, what happens after is up to imagination, who is supposedly dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvus_ace/pseuds/cassie_star_12
Summary: ShuAke Week 2020 - Day 1 - Hope / Stars / FantasyDuring a brief visit to Tokyo two years, two months, and several days after the events of Royal, Akira sends a "happy birthday" message to a dead man. That night, the man answers.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Sakura Futaba/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi
Series: ShuAke Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016971
Comments: 8
Kudos: 99





	Chasing Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done a challenge like this before so please go easy on me

“Hey. We’re here.”

Akira barely heard Morgana’s words from the bag beside him. He was too focused on the view outside—the station was familiar, of course, it was the same one from which he’d left Tokyo when his probation had been rescinded; but there was a part of Akira that remembered it only as if from a distant dream or a long-lost vision. It had only been just over two years (to be exact, two years, two months, and twelve days) since he’d last been at this station, but it felt like a lifetime ago.

And the last time he’d been here...well.

He hadn’t told Morgana about what he’d thought he’d seen that day. He knew his beloved companion would think he was hallucinating, or that it was just wishful thinking that had caused him to imagine the figure on the platform. And as much as Akira loved the little guy, he didn’t want to hear him talk about it.

So he kept silent, and pretended he hadn’t seen that familiar tan peacoat pass by the train window all that time ago.

Akira shook his head, forcing his thoughts to turn away from _that_ particular subject. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t dwell on it.

“Akira?”

He turned to Morgana at last, face carefully blank. “Hm?”

“We’re here,” Morgana said. “Come on. Sojiro’s coming out to pick you up, right?”

“Yeah,” Akira said, “I guess I should let him know we're here.”

He pulled out his phone and just stared at the lock screen for a moment, allowing a small, sad smile to drift across his face. It was the only photo he had of all the former Phantom Thieves together, taken near the end of January two years ago.

“We’ll finally get to see them again,” Morgana said softly, resting a paw on Akira’s arm. “Even if it’s only for a little while. I’m sure they can’t wait.”

“I know,” Akira sighed. “I just...I wish _he_ could be there, too.”

Before Morgana could say anything else, Akira picked up the bag containing the furry fellow and slung it over his shoulder the way he’d done in high school, then joined the line of passengers preparing to disembark.

As it turned out, Sojiro was already at the station, waiting for Akira and Morgana to arrive. To their surprise, Futaba was with him, holding a decent-sized gift bag and grinning broadly.

“Welcome back, dork!” she said, passing the bag to Sojiro and launching herself at Akira. The former leader of the Thieves stumbled back with the force of her hug.

“Hey yourself,” Akira said with a laugh, ruffling her hair. “I didn’t know you were coming, too.”

“You really thought I would pass up the chance to be the first person to welcome you back to Tokyo?” Futaba pulled back, mildly offended. “Of course I came!”

“I thought you’d be waiting to ambush me back at Leblanc,” Akira said.

Sojiro smiled. “Which reminds me. I’ve updated the attic and made it a more liveable space. Don’t worry, I’ve left all your decorations---but it has a real bed now, and a mini-fridge. Oh, and a little something else is waiting for you on the desk up there. Now, I know I’ve said it before, but if you change your mind about staying up there, you’re always welcome to stay in the house with us.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Akira said. “Really. But I like the attic. It’s nostalgic for me.”

“Your choice,” the older man said with a shrug.

“Hey!” Morgana meowed, sticking his torso out to peer over Akira’s shoulder. “Don’t forget about me!”

“Kitty!” Futaba said, grinning again. “There you are!”

“I am NOT---oh wait, I guess I am! But that’s no excuse to not use my name!”

Futaba ignored this in favor of reclaiming the gift bag from Sojiro and passing it to Akira.

“I made this specifically for you, so you’d better appreciate it!” she warned him.

“All right, all right,” Akira laughed. “I’ll open it when we get home, okay?”

Futaba had already gone back to messing with Morgana; Akira tried briefly to mediate before just letting them have at it. Chuckling to himself, Sojiro led the way back to the car, and the foursome left the station.

★ ☆ ★

They made it back to Leblanc with no difficulties, but almost as soon as they stepped through the door into the cafe, Futaba’s phone went off. She took one look at the caller ID, meeped in surprise, and dashed back outside to answer.

“That girl’s always getting calls these days,” Sojiro grumbled as he watched her leave, although his expression was warm. “Not just from you guys, either. She’s made some friends at Shujin, too....”

Akira nodded, but privately thought that if Futaba’s expression was anything to go by, he knew exactly who was talking on the other end of the line. Only Sumire could make Futaba smile like that.

“Why don’t you go on up?” Sojiro said, suddenly smirking. “I’ll prepare you some coffee and curry.”

Raising an eyebrow, Akira took the hint and walked upstairs.

The attic was familiar as ever---the moment he had fully entered it, he was overwhelmed with memories of enthusiastic meetings between nine people and a cat, movie marathons with best friends, lunch parties after minor accomplishments, crafting infiltration tools, video game tournaments, physical training, and so much more. He could almost hear the energetic voices of Ann and Ryuji discussing their latest victory and Makoto’s more logical input, could almost see Futaba jumping up and down while clutching an irritated Morgana to her chest as a laughing Sumire watched from the sidelines, could almost taste the lovely herbal tea Haru made when the team needed a chance to relax and the hot pot Yusuke insisted the group feast on after each heist---

_\---could almost feel the soft leather of a glove as he shook hands with a dead man---_

“Hey, you okay?” Morgana said, shaking Akira out of his memory spiral.

“Yeah,” Akira said, and it almost didn’t sound like a lie.

Morgana, strangely enough, let it slide.

The reason Sojiro had suggested he go upstairs was apparent within seconds: there was a medium-sized box resting on the room’s single desk, wrapped neatly in black paper and tied with a red ribbon. Attached to the ribbon was a small card with the word “Joker” on it. Morgana jumped up to sniff it, then stood to the side, watching curiously, as Akira carefully unwrapped it and lifted the lid---

\---he took them out carefully, one by one, and set them on the desk in a line. Their glass frames reflected the sunlight coming in at an angle from the attic window, almost obscuring the photos themselves. In total, there were nine photos, each one capturing a familiar moment.

Akira hunched over his work desk, making infiltration tools under Morgana’s careful watch. Akira and Ryuji, running side by side in their Shujin gym uniforms. Akira and Ann, eating crepes in the Shibuya station square. Akira and Yusuke, discussing the paintings in an art exhibit. Akira and Makoto, sparring against each other in the gym. Akira and Futaba, playing video games on the attic’s tiny TV. Akira and Haru, taking care of the school’s rooftop garden. Akira and Sumire, doing stretches together in Inokashira Park.

Akira and Goro, playing chess in Leblanc.

Goro had been wearing his gloves at the time, Akira distantly noted. Of course he had. He wore them everywhere, soft black leather shielding his hands from everything and everyone. In the photo, he had lifted his white knight piece in preparation to move it. His ruby eyes were focused not on the piece or the board, but on Akira instead, and a soft smile graced his lips. Akira’s own eyes were watching the movement of the piece, however, rendering him completely oblivious to the look Goro was giving him. He had a smile of his own, small yet sharp, a more toned-down version of Joker’s signature grin. His glasses didn’t quite block his intense silver gaze as he calculated his next move.

They had been so carefree, then. Goro had still been the famous Detective Prince; Akira had still been the outcast transfer student. Their masks had both been up at the time, but each boy had allowed them to loosen, showing each other more of their true selves than they showed other people.

_“Checkmate,” Goro said, polite smile edging dangerously close to a smirk. “I win again.”_

Only when Morgana said “hey, you okay?” did Akira realize he was crying.

★ ☆ ★

On the morning of June 2, Akira woke up screaming.

He’d been having these dreams for years now, and they’d only grown more common.

_Goro, publicly denouncing the Phantom Thieves on live television after Madarame’s change of heart. Goro, shaking hands with Akira after the show as he suggests they debate more often. Goro, stepping foot into Leblanc with Sae Niijima as he compliments the establishment._

_Goro, trying Akira’s coffee for the first time and declaring it to be delicious. Goro, inviting Akira to the jazz club to relax in the evenings. Goro, spotting the wooden chess set for the first time and immediately challenging Akira to a match. Goro, sharing pieces of his past with Akira as he tries to pretend he isn’t still in pain from it. Goro, with his soft brown hair and ruby eyes and dark gloves and body covered in scars. Goro, standing in a rigged casino as the towering figure of Robin Hood appears at his back._

_Goro, stealing a guard’s gun and shooting the cognitive Akira through the skull. Goro, voice emotionless as he informs Shido that the job is done. Goro, cutting off the Thieves in the engine room. Goro, displaying his true power as his red mask is replaced by a black one and Loki looms behind him._

_Goro, tossing the black king piece to Akira before sealing off the engine room._

_Goro, appearing out of nowhere on Christmas eve to take Akira’s place in prison._

_Goro, turning darker and darker as he works with Akira to discover the truth about their new reality. Goro, avoiding the Thieves as much as possible and refusing to visit Leblanc so he doesn’t have to look dead people in the eyes. Goro, resisting every attempt Maruki makes to convince him and Akira to give in to the new reality. Goro, determined to never stop fighting for the true reality._

_Goro, who knew all along what would happen to him when the world was restored._

It was always Goro.

Akira always woke up screaming.

★ ☆ ★

> **joker-ace:** hey
> 
> **joker-ace:** it’s your birthday today
> 
> **joker-ace:** you’d be turning 21 years old
> 
> **joker-ace:** happy birthday, goro
> 
> **joker-ace:** I just wish I could’ve spent it with you
> 
> **joker-ace:** I miss you so goddamn much
> 
> **joker-ace:** if you’re out there somewhere, I hope you know that I’m thinking of you
> 
> **joker-ace:** I’m always thinking of you
> 
> **joker-ace:** ok I gotta go before mona gets back and bugs me about texting a dead man
> 
> **joker-ace:** I’m so sorry

★ ☆ ★

Futaba’s gift, which Akira had opened before going to bed last night, was an extremely modified laptop with the Phantom Thieves logo on the top. As Akira had tested it out, Futaba had told him proudly that she’d made it one of the most powerful laptops in existence with her mods---largely increased storage, incredibly smooth graphics, encryption that was above government-level standards, almost nonexistent lag, a private data server, premium online connectivity, even a custom file manager that required files to be unlocked manually with a passcode or PIN.

“I knew you needed a new laptop for college, and I thought I’d help out a bit,” Futaba had said. “This baby will last you a long time. If it ever needs a touch-up, just let me know and I’ll have it back to perfect in just a few hours. The security’s pretty tight, too; only a really good hacker with intimate knowledge of the Phantom Thieves would be able to get in, and even then they’d be facing quite the challenge.”

“Thanks, Futaba,” Akira had said, full of admiration and respect for his pseudo-sister. “You’re the best.”

“I know!”

So far, Akira had used the laptop to write a letter to a dead man, read it twice, and promptly delete the whole thing.

★ ☆ ★

He met Sumire a block away from the stadium in Odaiba. Her hair was tied up with a black ribbon, and she wore a casual summer shirt and a knee-length skirt. Her nails were painted red to match her hair.

“Hello,” she said when she saw him approach. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too,” Akira said. “Sorry about the last-minute invitation.”

“It’s okay,” Sumire said, smiling gently. “He meant a lot to the both of us. And I didn’t want you to have to do this alone.”

Akira took her right hand in his left, and together they walked over to the stadium---or rather, to what was right in front of it.

A single steel plate with a name on it, and an engraving of a crow.

Akira and Sumire knelt before the plate, bowing their heads in respect.

“Akechi Goro. Our beloved Crow,” Sumire started. “We’re here to pay our respects to you, and to celebrate your birthday. To celebrate _you_. We miss you, a lot. I miss our Wednesday afternoon lunches. I miss our initial infiltrations of Maruki’s Palace, just the three of us. I miss your navigation. I miss your sense of humor and your determination and your will to fight no matter what. I miss the way you always did your best to protect me because of how inexperienced I was. I miss fighting Shadows with you. The world isn’t quite as interesting without you in it. But I hope you’ve found peace, wherever you are now. And I hope that if you can hear me now, you know how much you mean to me.”

After a brief pause, Akira swallowed and said, “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you. It was my wish that brought you back to a living hell. I had to send you to die a second time just to set you free. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I hope you’re free now. I know that’s what you wanted. I know you’d never have forgiven me if I’d given in to Maruki’s reality. Every night I dream of you. Every morning I wake up screaming as I remember that you’re gone now. But I don’t regret what happened. I got to spend another month with you, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I’ll never forget you, Goro. None of us will.”

They knelt there in silence for a few minutes, Akira blinking away tears. Sumire gently squeezed his hand, a reassurance and a promise.

“Thank you for coming, Sumi,” Akira said. “You meant a lot to him---to both of us.”

“Our trio, reunited,” Sumire said. “Even though he’s no longer with us physically, he’ll always be in our hearts. Always.”

Akira nodded, then turned to the plate once again and said, “Sumire’s doing wonderful. She wins almost every competition she enters. She stays on top of her schoolwork the whole time. I’m proud of her, and I know you’d be proud too. She’s grown so much. She doesn’t need us to protect her---she never did, really. I miss fighting together, just the three of us. We were a good team. Even as Sumire and I continue to move on through the world, you’ll always be with us. We’ll show you how much we’ve grown. And someday, when we meet again at last, our trio will be complete among the stars. Shining brightly, together forever.”

He had lifted their connected hands as he spoke---and for the briefest of moments, he thought he felt the ghost of a touch as a third hand rested atop their own.

Sumire gasped, and Akira knew she had felt it too.

Then the sensation vanished, and the pair were left alone once again.

After a few more moments of silence, Akira and Sumire stood as one and bowed to the steel plate that served as Akechi Goro’s tombstone, then turned and walked away.

★ ☆ ★

Akira’s phone buzzed just as he re-entered Leblanc’s attic. Sighing, he set it down for a moment while he removed his coat and shoes, then took a seat at the couch and opened the messaging app.

His heart stopped at what he saw.

> **prince-of-crows:** Jazz club in Kichijoji. 8 p.m.

_What?_

> **joker-ace:** what the fuck
> 
> **prince-of-crows:** I’ll be waiting.
> 
> **joker-ace:** again, what the fuck
> 
> **joker-ace:** you’re dead
> 
> **joker-ace:** why is a dead man texting me
> 
> **prince-of-crows:** Why were you texting a dead man?

Touché.

> **joker-ace:** because I miss him
> 
> **joker-ace:** I didn’t expect him to text back
> 
> **prince-of-crows:** Are you coming or not?
> 
> **joker-ace:** I’ll be there soon

★ ☆ ★

There he was.

Orange coat. Dark green scarf. Black leather gloves. His chestnut hair was longer now, tied in a little ponytail at his neck. His face had even more scars than Akira remembered. His ruby eyes were sharp as ever, and he watched Akira approach the table he was seated at without any expression.

Akechi Goro. Akira’s rival---and the man he loved.

Akira managed to sit down without shaking, which was one hell of a feat.

“Hello again,” Goro said, and his familiar voice was enough to shock Akira out of his dazed state.

“You’re dead,” Akira blurted out. “I watched you die. _Twice_ . How the hell are you here? We---we _mourned_ for you, you know. There’s a steel plate in front of the stadium in Odaiba that we put there in your honor; Sumire and I were visiting it earlier today.”

“I’m honored, I suppose,” Goro said flatly, “but I am clearly not dead, so I would appreciate it if you could please stop insinuating as much.”

“But how? How are you not---”

“If you care to shut up for a moment, I’ll explain it.”

Akira shut up.

Goro took a deep breath and began.

★ ☆ ★

It turned out to be rather simple. After dragging himself to the nearest safe room and warping back to the Palace entrance, then returning to the real world, Goro had passed out---in part from blood loss, in part from the pain of the bullet wound in his shoulder and the slashes across his chest and sides, in part from just general exhaustion. Someone had called an ambulance, and he’d been rushed to the nearest hospital in a coma.

The reason Maruki Takuto had declared Akechi Goro to be dead was because at the moment Maruki created his new reality, Goro _was_ dead. He had died twice during surgery of the bullet wound that had only just missed his heart. When Maruki overwrote the original reality with his own, Goro’s heart had been stopped. All Maruki had really done was pull Goro out of his coma several weeks early.

After the true reality had been restored and Goro had vanished from Odaiba, Goro had awoken in his hospital bed, appearing to the hospital staff to have finally emerged from a two and a half month coma. He had then spent the next several months undergoing physical therapy, as well as meeting with an actual therapist that Niijima Sae had set him up with. After a while, he’d been declared fully recovered, and had immediately left Tokyo on the first train out.

Goro had wandered across Japan for about a year and a half, hunting down Shido’s associates. Though he no longer had access to the Metaverse, and therefore could not use Hereward, he still took down each associate easily, often delivering them back to Tokyo under police escort. Though he’d remained anonymous for the most part, Sae had eventually caught on to what he was doing, and had offered him her resources---unwilling to push her away again, Goro had accepted, and with her help, he’d rounded up hundreds of people connected to his father and ensured they received proper justice. A few of the associates had ended up dead, but Goro had only killed them in self-defense, considering they had attacked him before he had a chance to arrest them. Those ones, he ensured were never found.

Finally, two years after the true reality had been restored, Goro had returned to Tokyo. Since Makoto had moved in with Haru, Sae had offered him her apartment as a place to stay, but he had refused, insisting that the former Thieves could not know he was alive. Instead he’d bought a new apartment and moved in that very afternoon, considering he didn’t really have much worth moving. He’d also adopted a stray cat, which he’d named Loki. At Sae’s encouragement, he’d actually picked up his detective work again, keeping to the shadows this time. Given that the second Detective Prince had been wiped from the cognition of the masses, Goro had risen to the position for a second time, known only as “Crow” to the people who hired him and completely anonymous to everyone else. He never did media appearances, unwilling to draw the former Phantom Thieves’ attention to him.

Then his twenty-first birthday came around, and he received a message from Kurusu Akira.

★ ☆ ★

“And so I decided to make myself known at last,” Goro finished. “I asked Sae to watch over Loki for the evening and came here. Which brings us to the present.”

Akira still had quite a few questions about the whole affair, but the first one that came out of his mouth was “You named your cat Loki?”

“He’s a tricky little bastard. The name suits him,” Goro said.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were alive?” Akira said quietly. “We missed you, Goro. Especially Sumire and I. We would’ve wanted to see you.”

“I know,” Goro said.

“We could’ve helped you.”

“I know that too.”

“Then why?”

Goro sighed.

“Because...I was afraid,” he admitted.

Of all the things he could’ve said, _that_ was the last thing Akira would’ve ever expected. “Wait, what?”

“You told me that you hated yourself for leaving me behind in the engine room,” Goro said. “If you saw the cost at which I’d survived...I didn’t know what you’d think.”

Akira, almost without thinking, reached up and brushed his thumb along a jagged scar across Goro’s cheek. Goro remained very still as Akira traced it gently, red eyes watching him carefully.

“You don’t have to hide,” Akira said. “Not from the Thieves, and not from me.”

Goro had no answer to that.

After a few moments of tense silence, Akira lowered his hand and said, “Come back to Leblanc with me. I know the other Thieves will want to see you.”

“I doubt it,” Goro said.

“Of course they will. You’re our friend, Goro. We care about you. They’ll be thrilled to find out you’re alive and well again.”

“You are a fool, Akira.”

“Maybe,” Akira said with a shrug. “But I don’t mind. Come on. Please?”

Goro hesitated, then said, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Certain. Phantom Thief’s honor. Cross my heart and hope to die,” Akira said, placing his hand over his heart to prove it.

Goro contemplated him for a moment, then exhaled sharply.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll go with you.”

Akira grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> I love AkeShu with all of my soul, and while I know this fic didn't really dive into actual romantic stuff other than saying outright that Akira is in love with Goro, I still had a lot of fun writing it! Please comment and let me know what you think!
> 
> Edit (11/22/2020): fixed a typo. also, I've read the few comments posted here and they made me very happy :)


End file.
